Rationalized Insanity
by Gigabomb
Summary: Drabbles from various fandoms. Titles written in accordance with fandom and characters featured. See specifics within.
1. HP & RK: Dumbledore, Kenshin

This is going to be my 'request' fic, where you can request drabbles from specific fandoms (listed below) and I will try to write them because I really do need to write more than Naruto. The first three drabbles are requests from friends from my LiveJournal site, just to give you an idea of what to expect. Please don't request more than one. Please don't expect them promptly. Please don't request lemons. Please don't expect quality. I'm experimenting with new fandoms after all. If you want a good idea of who I might be decent at writing, go to my main page and look up my favorite characters.

_**Fandoms**_

**Naruto** (duh, but if you request something about the sannin or anyone from Sound Village, expect those to appear on either "Legendary or Something Like It" or "Overtones of Discordant Melody" respectively)

**Bleach**

**Harry Potter**

**Rurouni Kenshin**

**Slayers**

**Star Wars **(not the newer stuff though please. Try not to go past the Thrawn Trilogy. I haven't read the newest books, but I have seen all six movies)

**Dragonball Z**

**Gundam Wing**

**The Matrix**

**Inuyasha**

**Teen Titans**

----

Challenge: That time Albus Dumbledore met the Hitokiri Battousai.

Albus Dumbledore had never been happier to be away from Hogwarts. After seven years of scholary hell, he had finally escaped from the bane of his life and was free! Free to not study! Free to not read books! He was finally doing what he wanted with his life and was seeing the world. Yes, the eighteen year old boy thought cheerfully, if he had anything to say about it, he would never enter any school's hallowed halls again.

For one thing, school had failed to teach him one essential skill. How to read maps. As pretty as the countryside of Japan was, what Albus really wanted to see was the cities, which was currently why he was now in the middle of Kyoto, trying to figure out the Japanese word for brothel. Sad to say, he wasn't having any luck, and as it was well past sunset and the rain had been falling for a good three hours, Albus had yet to find anyone to ask directions from. Right when the newly graduated wizard had almost completely lost hope of finding anywhere to sleep, much less in the arms of a beautiful Japanese woman, Albus came across two men facing each other down in an alley. One was a rather nondescript older gentleman, but the other was a boy with a rather brilliant shock of red hair, startling to see in a country of predominantly black locks. Albus knew with his blond hair and blue eyes that marked him as a foreigner, he stood out even more, but the golden pupils the boy possessed still seemed quite unusual.

"Excuse me," Albus began in his best Japanese, which still wasn't very good, "Do you have any idea where-" He trailed off as the red-haired boy drew the sword he wore at his hip and quite nonchalantly cut the other man in two. The tip of his sword now dripping with blood, the boy (no, not a boy. What boy could kill in such cold blood?) now turned to Albus.

It was then that the red-haired child assassin finally spoke. "I apologize, foreigner, but none are allowed to witness my work. I will pray for you."

Oh shit. Albus Dumbledore had never been more grateful to Professor Dippet for teaching him wordless magic, for before the young man managed to kill Albus as easily as he had killed his previous victim, the English wizard had completely disappeared.

Of course, all it really was was an invisibility spell, and Albus was hard put to hold his breath as the assassin glanced around guardedly before flicking the blood on his blade to the ground and sheathing his sword. "Keh. Seeing things again."

It was a good ten minutes after the red-haired boy had disappeared from sight before Albus allowed himself to take a full breath. He couldn't believe he had almost been killed by a muggle. How humiliating would that have been? Well, he supposed it served him right for coming to Japan when it was in the middle of a civil war. Now, if he could only find that brothel...


	2. Naruto: Gaara, Sand Council

Challenge: The tests Gaara needed to pass to gain the Kazekage title.

The Sand council glanced nervously among themselves as the youngest child of the Yondaime Kazekage stood before them. Gaara, they all knew, was by far the most powerful shinobi in Sunagakure, due to the combination of his father's genes and the demon inside of him, but far more than power was required if one was to lead the Sand. Strength of will. Determination. Ruthlessness. A desire to protect the village. And most importantly, stability, which was the most worrying factor.

"Gaara..."

"I will be the Kazekage. None of you will stop me. If any of you try to get in my way of saving this village before it destroys itself, I will kill you all."

More than one member of the council couldn't help but grin at the irony. Four out of five wasn't so bad.


	3. Rurouni Kenshin: Kenshin

Challenge: How Kenshin acquired his pink gi.

Kenshin looked sadly down at what had once been a beautifully embroidered red gi, bought on a whim one night in Kyoto. It had once hid the blood stains completely, making it perfect for the messier assassination jobs and bodyguard assignments alike. Not so, now. The embroidery had been lost to numerous patch jobs. And as for the red... Kenshin sighed wearily. Apparently the dye hadn't been such great quality after all. Numerous washings had reduced it to a rather girly pink. Pink. Kenshin hated pink. Well... the wanderer let out another sigh. Beggars couldn't be choosers. He couldn't possibly afford new clothing, now that he had given up his life as an assassin and didn't have any other job skills to speak of. Kenshin gave the soaking garment one last shake and shrugged it back over his shoulders. He hoped the next village would be more hospitable than the last. Getting run out of town because of his sword was always a drag, but he wasn't willing to get rid of it quite yet. Who knew? In Edo, he might actually find some people to protect.


	4. Naruto: Haku, Ukon

Challenge: What if Orochimaru found Haku instead of Zabuza?

Once upon a time, Haku had thought there was nothing more precious in the world being useful to someone, to have worth in another person's life. It took him a few months in Orochimaru-sama's care for the boy to realize he was wrong. While it was very all well and good if one person valued your existence, something infinitely better was to have numerous people who valued you. Or maybe even needed you. Or maybe even (dared Haku hope?) loved you.

"Haku-senpai?"

Haku looked up from his meditation to meet the eyes of the elder of the twins, Ukon, another of Orochimaru-sama's students. The snake sannin's protégés as a whole were not very emotional, as their harsh childhoods tended to strip away any lingering innocence, but even so, watching the way Ukon kept glancing to the side in obvious embarrassment about whatever he had decided to approach the older boy about, Haku couldn't help but think that for all his seriousness, Ukon was still very young. Haku smiled softly in an effort to assuage the smaller boy's unease. "What is it, Ukon-kun?"

"We… Sakon and I, that is… we don't really…" Ukon glanced at the ground in shame, unable to finish phrasing out his request. But there was a reason Haku was always approached for help instead of the aloof Kimimaro.

"Having a little bit of trouble with that new throwing technique Kabuto-san showed you earlier?"

Ukon nodded, his gaze still focused on the ground. Haku smiled again and he rose to his feet, placing one hand on the younger boy's shoulder. Ukon looked up, startled, as they all were, by Haku's obvious sign of affection. Haku's grin turned encouraging. "Don't worry about it. It took me weeks to master that one. I'll show you guys a shortcut to speed up your progress a little, okay?"

It was with the obvious trepidation that all of Orochimaru-sama's students shared that Ukon returned Haku's smile. "Okay, senpai."

When Haku took Ukon's hand in his own to let the pale-haired child show him the way to the twins' chosen training grounds, the younger boy didn't return Haku's friendly squeeze, but neither did he pull away. And as much as Haku valued Orochimaru-sama's favor and praise, he knew that in the end, he would treasure moments such as these just a little bit more.


	5. Naruto: Zabuza, Kisame

Challenge: Backstory about Kisame's childhood.

Even at ten years old, most people tended to treat Zabuza like he was a rabid animal. With good reason- it was less than a year ago that Zabuza had committed mass murder on his classmates and the event was still fresh in people's minds. He couldn't escape from the wary looks. Everyone knew about it, and Zabuza was sick of it. He didn't much like people to begin with, and the distrustful stares just made it worse, even if he hated most of them and thought the rest were idiots. It was early in his life, even before the massacre, that he had found a place that no one else knew about and therefore never came to. At least, not until today.

The genin stared down at the kid sitting in the middle of his private clearing. The brat couldn't have been more than seven, for despite his odd blue coloring the chubby cheeks of early childhood were still prominent, but currently the child was trying to clean a sword easily twice as tall as he was with strange ridges all along the blade, and not doing a very good job of it.

After a moment of watching the kid struggle with the sword that probably weighed more than he did, Zabuza decided to intervene. "You have to use lye to get out the rust between the cracks. Your sword will never get clean that way."

The blue-skinned child looked up from his task, not seeming particularly surprised, just slightly guarded. "This sword never rusts. I'm just trying to get out the old blood."

Zabuza noticed the guarded look, and tensed. He _hated_ the guarded look. "As I said before: lye."

The child blinked, and the suspicion evaporated. "Oh."

Zabuza was slightly startled to watch the paranoia vanish so easily. It wasn't _supposed_ to vanish. Normal people didn't relax until he was a safe distance away, and sometimes not even then. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Kisame."

"Why are you blue?"

Kisame jutted his chin out in a defiant gesture. "I was born that way."

Zabuza blinked, having not expected such a simple explanation. "Oh."

The slight hostility the child radiated still remained. "Why did you kill all your classmates?"

Zabuza winced. He had hoped the kid was ignorant of that occurrance, so he could see someone relaxed around him, for once. Guess he wasn't that lucky. "Most of them were going to die anyway. I don't like doing what the adults say, so I just killed all of them instead of just one."

Kisame tilted his head to the side, considering. Then he shrugged. "Okay." He went back to his sword, rubbing with all the strength a seven year old possessed and not making much progress.

Zabuza soon got tired of watching the younger boy struggle through a hopeless task. "Wait here. I've got some solvent at home."

Kisame glanced up at him. "Why would you help me?"

"Because the way you're doing it is stupid."

More consideration. A nod. "Okay."


	6. Naruto: Zetsu, Hinata

Challenge: Zetsu

Bonuses: Hinata, advice

Hinata wasn't sure why she, of all people, had been chosen to guard the prisoner, the only surviving member of the Akatsuki organization after the Leaf had managed to wipe the group out after years of war. The Akatsuki were known to be strong, and she wasn't strong, and as many times as she had been told by her teammates and Tsunade-sama that this Akatsuki wasn't a fighter, a warrior, merely a scout who hadn't even offered up any resistance when the ANBU closed in on him, the unblinking yellow eyes unnerved her.

'Just a scout' indeed. If what Neji had said earlier was true, the man (hopefully there was enough humanity in the figure crouched before her for the descriptor to be considered accurate) in front of her, chained by every limb with chakra-imbued chains to the stone walls of his cell, had eyes that exceeded the abilities of even the Byakuugan, which was the only reason her father had allowed her to accept the mission to begin with, as it placed the exceedingly strong master of a rare form of ocular ninjutsu in the Hyuuga Compound, and therefore in the Hyuuga's power.

Her father had assured her that the seals placed on the Akatsuki would cripple the shinobi's access to his chakra, but still, the eyes...

"You seem rather anxious, child, for one who is supposed to prevent us from causing anyone in this village harm."

The Akatsuki's voice was deep and resounded oddly, but though his words were stated matter-of-factly and lacked contempt, Hinata's defenses, made sensitive by years of derision, momentarily flared. "I am a scion of the Hyuuga's head branch and a master of the Byakuugan. Don't underestimate me!"

The Akatsuki tilted his head to one side. "Somewhat temperamental as well, we see, though the anger doesn't seem to come naturally to you. Your face is set in too gentle lines for such fury to be your true nature." A slow, deliberate blink. "You shouldn't aspire to such ruthlessness. It doesn't suit you, child."

Such accurate analysis would have startled most shinobi, but Hinata was a Hyuuga and was often subject to such intense scrutiny, and it had been years since such things phased her. "I refuse to succumb to my weakness, especially in front of an enemy."

Another blink. "Whoever said lack of anger was a weakness? We've always found it to be a strength, ourselves."

Hinata momentarily wondered if the Akatsuki was royalty, as she couldn't think of any other reason for the man to speak in plural. But it didn't matter. "I've always found it to be a hindrance, but I am not you."

The Akatsuki nodded in agreement. "No, you're not anything like us. You're so nearsighted you're practically blind." A pitying smile. "Not that we blame you. We're the only ones left who can see clearly, since you've killed the rest of us. We can't expect you who is imprisoned here to understand." The man spoke as if their positions were reversed, seemed to take no notice that he was the prisoner, and she the guard, but it didn't take a genius like Neji to tell that what the Akatsuki saw wasn't of the physical world at all, but of something else entirely.

That night, Hinata asked her father if she could be moved to another assignment. Even if she wasn't the proper Hyuuga, in one aspect she was very much a member of the esteemed clan. None of them reacted well to being shown the bars of their cage.


	7. Naruto: Itachi, Kisame

Challenge: The Real World

The first thing Itachi noticed upon awakening was the sound of something beeping next to his ear. The second thing was that this wasn't his dorm room at college, as the sheets felt far too rough. Not enough fabric softener, Itachi decided after some deliberation.

"Kisame?" The question came out in a croak, making his dry throat and mouth the third thing Itachi became aware of. Even so, the inquiry was understood, as soon Itachi heard someone getting to their feet and moving to his bedside to crouch beside him.

"I'm right here, Itachi-san."

The panic that had just begun to bubble up in Itachi (God, how he hated hospitals) subsided at the sound of his roommate's voice. "What-" Itachi coughed, and tried to wet his lips with his tongue. "What happened?"

There was a slight pause. Itachi cracked open one eye, and after the pupil had finished focusing, he managed to make out the reticent expression on his friend's face. Finally, Kisame responded, "You overdosed and started having seizures. I'm sorry, Itachi-san, but I had to take you to the hospital. If I hadn't..." Kisame didn't need to finish the thought. If he hadn't, Itachi would be dead. But even so... how could he have taken too much?

"Shisui... he said it wasn't that concentrated."

Kisame let out a bitter chuckle. "Turns out your cousin isn't as a great a drug dealer as he is a psychiatrist." Another pause. "Your father tried to stop the lawsuit, but your cousin is going to be tried for this, Itachi-san. It couldn't be hidden anymore. Not with you like this."

Wait. Lawsuit? "How long was I out?"

"Four days, Itachi-san."

That… didn't sound good. "My father is unhappy with me, isn't he."

Kisame's silence was enough of an affirmation. Itachi didn't know how he could have hoped for the contrary. It had taken Uchiha Fugaku twenty years to build up the reputation and wealth of the Uchiha Empire, and Itachi had managed to utterly destroy the reputation part of it in less than a week. The heir and nephew of Uchiha Enterprise's founder standing trial and likely to serve twenty years. The eldest son in the hospital waiting to recover from a cocaine overdose. All that left was Sasuke, sixteen and more interested in saving the whales than saving his father's business. No wonder Fugaku was pissed.

How could he have been so stupid? He should have known better than to take anything from Shisui. He should have stuck to his regular dealer. Even if Zetsu had OD'd more than once himself, at least he could tell the difference between the low-quality stuff and the high-grade. His cousin… his cousin had ruined everything. The Uchiha family's reputation. His career. Itachi's _life_.

No… it hadn't been his cousin. That was his father talking. His father had known about Shisui. He'd known about Itachi. And he'd never done anything to stop it. To stop _them_. He didn't care what they were doing to themselves. He just cared they'd been caught.

Under the hospital blankets, Itachi felt his hands clench. "Kisame, you once told me about that group you are a part of. The Akatsuki."

Next to him, Kisame nodded reluctantly. With good reason. Even if they were putting Kisame through college, that particular criminal organization wasn't something you talked about during the light of day. "What about it, Itachi-san?"

"Do they happen to have an opening?"

"Why would you want-"

Itachi felt a dark grin spread across his face. It was oddly relaxing. "I have some favors I'd like to ask."


	8. Naruto: Sasuke, Naruto, Itachi, Kisame

Challenge: Akatsuki Crack

The finger Sasuke was pointing would have added quite a dramatic effect, if it had actually been facing in Itachi's direction instead of three feet to his left. "Ish because of you I have an infer- infer- hate myself! If it washn't for you, I'd be normal!"

In direct contrast to his younger brother, Itachi's words were still precise and carefully pronounced, despite the large amount of alcohol he had consumed earlier in the evening. However, the pretense of sobriety was not maintained by the fact that he currently had his head between his knees and looked liable to throw up. "I wouldn't have been driven to such extremes if you hadn't killed Miki-chan in such a brutal manner."

Sasuke's glare was in full force, which with the Sharingan, again would have been dramatic, if he still wasn't facing three feet to his brother's left. "You asked me to feed him! I was seven! It washn't my fault I didn't know goldfish died if they ate too much!"

Itachi wasn't listening. "Oh Miki-chan, how I miss you..."

"Will you get over your fudding goldfish already?"

"You are not one to talk, little brother."

Sasuke's hands clenched into fists. "Why you..." He started stalking determinedly towards the wall, which was, yes, still three feet to his brother's left.

It was then that the psychiatrist intervened. "Now, now, we mustn't resort to violence..." A little bit too late, perhaps, if Itachi had indeed been in Sasuke's path, but as it was, all that resulted from Dr. Ichizen's belated intercession was Sasuke getting a bloody nose from walking into a wall.

After Sasuke was firmly (if sullenly) seated in a chair to the right of the couch where Itachi was currently clutching his head, Dr. Ichizen smiled in what would normally be considered a soothing manner. He really was getting quite a bit of good material out of this. "Very good. Now, Sasuke-kun, if you would, will you please elaborate about what stemmed this violent aggression you feel towards your brother?"

----

Outside in the lobby, Naruto and Kisame were playing War, if only because there weren't enough people for a decent game of Poker and Naruto didn't have any money on him, anyway. The sound of Sasuke walking into the wall briefly made Naruto look up from the game, but after Kisame won one of his Jacks, he returned his attention to the cards.

Still, the Leaf-nin was troubled. "Do you think it was ethical to spike their drinks just to get them to sign the release forms for this?"

Kisame thought about it. "No. But how else do you think we were going to get them agree to go to therapy?"

"Good point."

The game continued, Kisame's stack of cards by that point quite a bit higher than Naruto's. Inside, they could both vaguely hear the sound of swearing. Naruto's expression grew a little uncomfortable. "What do you think they're doing in there?"

Kisame shrugged. "Hashing out their problems. I think. Isn't that what you're supposed to do in therapy?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

The sudden screaming of the younger Uchiha interrupted. "You ruined my life, you bastard!"

Both Leaf-nin and Akatsuki winced. Naruto tried to put a bright spin on the situation. "Well, it could be worse."

Kisame raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"They could be trying to kill each other."

"Itachi-san would win."

"He had more to drink, though."

"Itachi-san fights better drunk."

Naruto sighed irritably. "Fine, you could be trying to kill me, like usual."

This stumped the former Mist-nin. "Hm. You're right. Come to think of it, why aren't I trying to kill you?"

"I put some marijuana in those brownies I gave you while we were waiting for the alcohol to take effect."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense."

Inside, a vase broke.

Naruto frowned thoughtfully. "You know, this is taking longer than I thought it would. You want to go see a movie or something?"

"Sure. As long as it isn't _Finding Nemo_. I hate that movie."

"Whatever."

More screaming was soon heard. "I looked up to you, damn it!"

Naruto smiled. "Sounds like they're making progress."

"I'm going to kill you if it's the last thing I do!"

"Or not."


	9. Samurai Champloo: Fuu, Mugen, Jin

They met up with each other in Nagasaki about two weeks after they had parted ways for good. Fuu couldn't particularly say she was surprised when she ran into them in the street during the late afternoon of her first day in the city, and she sort of doubted the other two were either, though Jin's brow furrowed and Mugen swore for a good ten minutes, not even really pausing when it came time to order dinner. The waiter had been scandalized, and though Fuu was somewhat embarrassed on Mugen's behalf for ordering three fucking rice balls with a side of that wasabi shit, and hurry it up, bitch, the feeling was pure reflex, and so was the apology.

Mugen scowled through his rice balls and muttered about them following him, but that was the end of it. Jin sipped his tea and Fuu briefly considered saying how nice it was to see them again, but that was nothing but a reflex, too. She hadn't honestly thought their separation had been anything close to permanent, and after only a fortnight of being apart it felt like they never had walked down different paths. After all, they were all still dirty, tired, hungry (though not so much after dinner, even if Fuu could have stood for another platter), and poor, so it wasn't as if anything had changed.

It was without further comment that they traveled together to the cheapest inn after putting their dinner's tab on some drunk guy who hadn't known when to stop hitting on her, though Fuu knew that if asked Mugen would have said it was where he would have headed with or without them, and Jin wouldn't have said anything at all. When Fuu woke up the next morning, both of them were still there. And the morning after that. And the morning after that, though not the fourth morning, if only because they had spent the entire night running from the police who had mistaken Jin for a notorious serial killer and slept through the next day in some abandoned stables until the heat died down.

Nothing had changed from before. Mugen was still rude and crude and wasted most of his money on women, Jin was still quiet and stoic and wore glasses that didn't have any prescription in them for reasons he wouldn't explain, and both of them were still callous jerks who ate her dango when she wasn't looking and them refused to be remotely sorry about it. Nothing had changed from before. Except this time they had no final destination, no end of their journey in sight. And Fuu had no promise to hold them to.

Somehow, that didn't matter at all. After all, neither of them had been much for keeping promises to begin with.


	10. Naruto: Naruto, Sakura

Author's Note: For jammaster goat

Naruto wouldn't look at her. "I'm sorry, Sakura-chan. I'm so sorry. I couldn't," and it was here that his voice shook, though before it hadn't wavered. "I couldn't-"

He still wasn't looking at her, but that was alright. Sakura didn't particularly want to look at Naruto at that moment either. She didn't think she could. Her eyes were riveted elsewhere.

Even in death, Sasuke was beautiful, his face made up of delicate lines and carefully sculpted edges. He had always looked older than he was and that had remained true through his adolescence, his features far more mature than they should have been. A stranger gazing at the Uchiha's corpse would have seen the body of a young man easily into his twenties, would never have guessed that they were looking upon a boy just weeks past his sixteenth birthday. His face hadn't lost any of its intensity, even now, his brow still furrowed and his mouth still curled in a scowl.

Sasuke had found no peace in death. Sakura wasn't surprised. Being murdered by the boy he had once called his best friend- and it was murder, no matter the specifics of the battle- having his insides torn out bare-handed by a former comrade, was not a peaceful way to die.

Beside her, Naruto was still staring at the ground. "Sakura-chan..."

Sakura felt her hands clench. "You broke your promise to me, Naruto."

Naruto flinched. Sakura ignored it. "You told me that that you save Sasuke. You promised me. Is this your idea of what it means to save someone?"

"Orochimaru had already gotten to him, Sakura-chan. Sasuke..." and it was now that Naruto finally looked at her. His eyes were red, though the chakra of the Nine-Tails demon no longer ran through him. "Sasuke's been dead a long time.

"You're right. I failed you. All I could do for you was avenge his death. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. But there," his voice cracked, "there wasn't anything left."

Sakura closed her eyes. She didn't want to listen to Naruto anymore, but he continued talking regardless, his voice now rift was desperation. "Sakura-chan... I know you hate me, right now. But... I just hope that one day you can forgive me."

Sakura didn't reply.


	11. Fullmetal Alchemist: Greed

Author's Note: For greedyslayer

It really would have been more appropriate if everything hurt, but it didn't. Greed wished it did. Pain would have been vastly preferably to this weakness.

Not that he liked pain all that much. Even back when he had had his healing factor, those few seconds before it took over had never been fun. But still, at least pain was something. Weakness was an absence. Where his strength, his well of power had once been was nothing. And Greed hated nothing more than anything, because it wasn't anything at all.

He couldn't leave. They had tied him up and left him in this pit, and even though the bonds were only leather, he couldn't break them. Not now. And it was all that bitch's fault.

It was Envy who had led him here, but Envy was only a puppet. He hadn't been the one to come up with the idea to trick him, the rogue sin who'd gotten sick of following orders, and truss him up to rot for all eternity. The idea had been all Dante's. The ideas were always Dante's.

They had been lovers once. Maybe. At least, that was what Dante had told him when he had first woken up over eighty years ago. But Greed didn't remember. Lovers once or not- and he had always doubted it, as Dante had never looked on him with anything resembling affection- he hadn't been anything more than a toy to her in the fifty years she had commanded him. Or maybe a guard dog, that after going feral, had to be put down before it bit the hand of its owner.

Greed wanted to kill her. Before he had been content with simply being away from her, living his own life, but now he wanted to kill her. Nothing too fancy. Keeping her around long enough to gloat was a recipe for getting screwed, but wrapping a clawed hand around her throat- his armored form had been ugly as, well, sin, but god damn did he miss his claws sometimes- and breaking her neck, well... that would be satisfying.

If- no. Not if, when, when he got out of here, he was going to track her down. It might take another decade to escape, maybe a century, but the bitch was almost immortal and Greed had no doubt she'd still be around and causing trouble for the rest of the world in her pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone. She'd be relatively easy to find. And once he found her...

The seal made Greed's entire form burn with weakness and had for the past ten years. Greed had forgotten what the sky looked like, what food tasted like. On occasion he wondered that if he were human instead of just an imitation, whether he'd be insane by now instead of just tired.

Still, even with the weakness, the thought of his revenge was enough to make him smile. With luck, it might even be enough to get him through this without giving up. It had to be. Greed had nothing else, and that burned most of all.


	12. Naruto: Naruto, Sasuke

Author's Note: For miyukis 4

Even when they had been comrades, Naruto and Sasuke had never really gotten along. There had been rare moments when they understood each other completely, had fought with a comfortable synchronization without a word being said, but those times were far and few between. As Naruto stared at Sasuke now, his old friend's skin disfigured by the seal of the monster Sasuke had accepted as his teacher and the Uchiha's eyes glowing red and malevolent, he couldn't read him at all.

Sasuke's stance before had always shifted, just a little, before he struck. Now he moved without warning, Naruto barely getting a kunai up in time to block. Sasuke had used to frown when his attacks were deflected. Now his expression didn't change, remaining focused and intense in a way that Naruto couldn't help but be unnerved by.

It was only while fighting him, really, truly fighting him, with no holding back, that Naruto realized how much Sasuke had changed in the three years since their parting, even if his appearance had not. Sasuke had grown up and away from Naruto, had turned into a person that Naruto didn't know or really _want_ to know. When he gazed into Sasuke's eyes now, he was looking at a stranger, except worse. Naruto had learned how to kill the unknown shinobi he faced without hesitation, even without prior awareness of how they fought. This enemy- _Sasuke_- was someone he couldn't defeat. Not without losing in an entirely different but infinitely more important way.

But as Naruto felt Orochimaru's Kusanagi- Sasuke's weapon, now- bite into his shoulder, as he met the Uchiha's eyes and saw nothing there, Naruto knew that his opponent did not feel the same.


	13. Final Fantasy 7: Kadaj, Yazoo, Loz

Author's Note: For gelfling8604

Kadaj's hands twitched whenever he wasn't holding something. He disguised this habit by gesturing wildly while he talked, but Yazoo wasn't anything close to fooled. He did wonder why the hand gestures were being so much more dramatic than usual, though.

"These bikes aren't near good enough!"

At that, Loz, who was the best at mechanics and was currently fine-tuning the steering on his own bike, glanced at Yazoo for a translation. Yazoo shrugged. He didn't really know what Kadaj was talking about either.

As was the habit, Loz, who didn't care as much about looking foolish as Yazoo did, was the one to ask the obvious question. "What's wrong with them?"

At that, Kadaj glared, making Loz flinch. As was the habit, Yazoo, who was as smart as Kadaj if not more so and could argue more convincingly than Loz, placed a placating hand on their younger brother's shoulder. "The bikes work fine, Kadaj."

Kadaj snorted, and with a characteristic flash of distemper kicked his bike, scratching the paint. Out of the corner of his eye, Yazoo witnessed Loz reach out as if to stop their younger brother, but Yazoo shook his head, silently telling Loz to back down. A scratched bike wasn't anything to worry about. Better that Kadaj took his anger out on a bike rather than one of them.

Kadaj was frowning down at the scratch on his bike- as if the mark had appeared of its own volition just to spite him- when he replied frostily, "They aren't fast enough. Nii-san's bike has to be twice as good."

Somehow, Yazoo doubted this. They had taken the bikes a month ago from a small band of robbers who had attacked them- their corpses now rotted somewhere a few hundred miles from Midgar- and Loz had rebuilt their engines twice. The bikes hadn't been bad to begin with, either.

On top of that, they had never seen their rogue elder brother's bike, so who knew if it was any good or not, but Yazoo knew better than to argue with Kadaj when he was in a mood.

It was in his most soothing voice that Yazoo said, "We'll go into town tomorrow and buy new parts, Kadaj."

It was on reflex that Yazoo held his breath as Kadaj considered this, and only released the air out of his lungs after their younger brother nodded decisively. "Very well. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

He then stalked into the cabin they had appropriated for the night (abandoned, but they would have used it either way) and shut the door. For a moment, Yazoo stared after him, and it was with an effort that he wrenched his eyes away to meet Loz's puzzled gaze. "We shouldn't go in for a while, until he calms down."

Loz nodded in agreement, relief starkly spreading across his features. Yazoo felt the same, though he could mask his emotions much better than Loz. He hoped the Reunion would happen soon. Maybe then Kadaj would finally find the peace that had eluded him for so long.


	14. Bleach: Ishida, Tatsuki, Orihime

Author's Note: For know your story

When Ishida fought, he fought alone, for he could never release his true power when the one he was fighting for might be in the line of fire. He fought alone, for he couldn't bear to see the look of helplessness on Orihime's face that so often graced her features whenever she witnessed Ichigo in battle, the expression that said she would never be anything but something to protect to him. He fought alone, because he wouldn't allow himself to rely on anyone else for help, knowing they wouldn't succeed and be devastated by their failure. He fought alone, because when he fought, it wasn't for himself.

When Tatsuki fought, it was with Orihime watching, for she knew that as long as Orihime trusted her, she wouldn't let herself fall. She fought with Orihime watching because it was only for Orihime that she hurt someone outside her martial arts practice, for Orihime was the only one worth protecting. She fought with Orihime watching because she needed Orihime to know she was strong and would always look out for her. She fought with Orihime watching, because when she fought, it wasn't for herself.

When Orihime fought, it was where no one could see, because she didn't want her friends to know of her strength. She fought where no one could see, because she knew her friends needed someone to protect in order to feel strong. She fought where no one could see, because most of her battles went on inside her heart, and those were battles she needed to win alone. She fought where no one else could see, because when she fought, it was for herself. It was when she lost that it was for someone else, and it was in that way that she protected her friends.


	15. Naruto: Sasuke, Naruto

Author's Note: For sintari

When Sasuke had told him that he had learned more than fighting techniques in Sound, then licked his lips, Naruto hadn't known whether to be disgusted by the images that produced (like Sasuke in a schoolgirl outfit while frenching Orochimaru) or kind of turned on (hey, schoolgirl outfit). It had been therefore with some uncertainty that he had asked Sasuke to show him what he had learned. Not for any particularly good reason- the sex was excellent already- but still, he was seventeen and curious and not particularly adverse to variety in the bedroom, so what could it hurt? Well, him maybe if Sasuke turned out to be into S & M, but the healing factor thing had to be helpful sometime outside of battle.

Naruto had been ready for anything. This wasn't anything.

"Uh... Sasuke?"

"What?"

"... what are you doing?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "What I'd told you I'd do. Showing you what I learned in Sound."

"You're sewing."

Sasuke snorted. "Thanks for stating the obvious, moron." With his eyes narrowed, he then made a very neat stitch in the... whatever the hell he was making.

Naruto couldn't help but feel he was missing some vital piece of information. "Why are you sewing?"

"Because there weren't any tailors in Sound and I had to learn to make my own clothes."

"So that's it?" Disappointed didn't even begin to describe how he felt. He'd been willing to do S & M, damn it, and this is what he got?

Sasuke scowled at him. "What, can you do this?"

"No, but-"

"Then shut up. I need to concentrate."

Grumbling, Naruto stalked out of the room. His focus now uninterrupted, Sasuke leaned over and made another stitch. He hadn't minded showing Naruto his hobby, but he was glad the blond had left, all the same. It was hard enough already to sew the ruffles into the schoolgirl skirt just right, and he'd need every ounce of his attention on this task if he was going to have it ready by the time Naruto got back home tonight.


	16. Naruto: Kisame, Itachi

Author's Note: Originally written for the naruto100 challenge _First and Last_.

The first time Itachi felt the least desire for Kisame, it was during the aftermath of the bloodiest mission they had yet accomplished together. His Sharingan still activated, Itachi had glanced around the impromptu battlefield, the corpses of their target and her Rain-nin bodyguards strewn haphazardly on the ground where they had fallen, staining the area around themselves a rapidly darkening red. Reassured that there were no other opponents laying in wait in the tall grass, Itachi had moved his gaze to his partner. And stared.

Crouched by the body of his last kill, Kisame's own eyes were focused intently on the large kunai grasped in his left hand, running a cleaning cloth methodically over the blade where blood was flaking on the metal. The former Mist-nin was ignoring the red dripping in his own eyes from the sole wound the Rain-nin had managed to land on him and the gore staining his coat, his expression twisting in a critical frown as he held the kunai up to the fading afternoon light.

The heat that ran all the way from Itachi's face to pool in his stomach was unfamiliar. When Kisame noticed he was being watched and turned to look at him, Itachi didn't change his expression, but something was beginning to pound between his temples.

Kisame tilted his head to the side in concern. "Everything alright, Itachi-san?"

Itachi nodded, and turned away.

The last time Itachi desired his partner, he pressed his tongue further into Kisame's mouth and the kunai a little deeper into the former Mist-nin's stomach. Kisame coughed/choked, his eyes dark with pain and confusion and what Itachi knew to be betrayal only because he had seen it in his brother's eyes, all those years ago, and the taste of blood in Itachi's mouth was suddenly pervasive, dripping down the back of his throat. But Itachi didn't break away. He had despised his clan for its weakness. Intolerable, to think that for so long he had allowed such weakness to foster within himself.


	17. Final Fantasy 12: Vayne, Larsa

Ever since his elder brothers had died, Vayne had resigned himself to watching Archades in flames, night after night. Rozarrian battle cruisers, Archadian defectors, air pirate fleet, it varied seemingly randomly, according to his mind's whim. The identity of the attackers was the only thing that did. Everything else had a dull, horrifying sameness to it. The inability on the part of Archades to mount any sort of effective defense. The screaming. And as the grand finale, the collapse of the palace into rubble.

Or at least that was usually how the dream would end, the part where he could normally force himself awake. But not always. Sometimes, the dream went on.

Next, Vayne would hear a voice that invariably made his blood run cold. Such innocence did not belong in his nightmares.

"Brother…"

A tearstained face, as it never was in life. Larsa, brave Larsa, three years old and so easy to give trust that its recipients did not always deserve. It was then, if it ever reached that point at all, that Vayne ceased any effort to wake. It was impossible to remember it was just a dream when he was watching his brother's descent, a crescendo reached under the cacophony of enemy guns. Vayne watched, too far away to catch Larsa as he fell. A Solidor through and through, for their family was Archades, as much as Arcades was Solidor. When one was destroyed, so was the other.

He was lucky then to wake in nothing more than a cold sweat, far more likely to open his eyes with a shudder wracking his body that would not stop. In the end, it was always the black that comforted him, the darkness that greeted his eyes instead of fire, the silence that met his ears instead of Archades'—_Larsa's_—last breaths.

In the end, he could always tell himself, convince himself, that it was only a dream. That his brother was still alive and well, and that he could see to it that Archades would never burn.


	18. Final Fantasy 10: Auron, Kinoc

Over the course of their long acquaintance, Auron could recall a number of times when he had wanted to choke Kinoc into silence so badly that he could feel his hands convulsing. The other monk had been his friend for years, had guided him around the monastery until it stopped feeling like a maze—around which every corner he was sure to run into an unsent just slavering for the opportunity to rip out an unsuspecting novice's entrails—and started feeling more like home, but somehow all that made it even harder to ignore the man's (many) flaws. Number one on Auron's list, which perhaps was not the worst in Yevon's eyes but sure seemed like it should have been much of the time, was Kinoc's inability to gauge when it was a good idea to stop speaking.

In this case, that moment had come and gone about twenty minutes ago, and Auron was already mourning the passing of the last of his patience. Digging his nails into his palms whenever Kinoc's pointless nonsense or even more grating cutting remarks grew to be too much to be easily tolerated had worked in the past, but at the moment he did not possess the luxury of free hands.

He did not think too deeply about what they were currently being used for. The feeling of Kinoc's insides shifting between his fingers was bad enough. And Kinoc would _not. Stop. Talking._

"You're such… a moron, Auron. You and your… bright ideas. The Crusaders need our… help, you said. We need to give the people… time, you said." Kinoc hacked, an ugly, wet sound. Red trailed down the side of his cheek and joined the pool of blood already half-formed around his body. But not even dying was enough to erase the other monk's weak, mocking grin, or stay his incessant babbling. "Like anyone… can slow down Sin. Looks like your… delusions of grandeur have gotten us into trouble… once again."

"Shut up." Auron cast his eyes around frantically, for what was probably the twelfth or thirteenth or twentieth time. He couldn't have given away all the potions. Not all of them. He knew better than that, knew to save a few for a real emergency.

If only there had not been so many of those. So much screaming. And the faces… they had been so young. Younger than him. Younger than Kinoc.

Auron never had been good at saying no. Not when it really mattered.

"Shut up," he said again, desperately, because unlike Kinoc, Auron rarely could think of anything to say. He said it, even though Kinoc had already gone quiet.

It was then for the first time that Auron looked down. Looked, not just glanced then turned away, bile rising in his throat. Kinoc never went quiet. A constant stream of words tumbling out of his friend's mouth had been the background noise of Auron's life for the past decade, and Auron suddenly realized that no matter how many times he had been tempted to strangle Kinoc just so he could have a few minutes of peace, there was something horribly wrong in Spira when Kinoc stopped talking just because Auron asked. Kinoc was not _supposed_ to go quiet.

Kinoc was not supposed to stop breathing, either.

The wind slowed down. For the first time, Auron felt the rough planks of what was left of Kilika digging through his leather pants, the sun burning the back of his neck. The utter quiet of a newly-ruined village, bereft of the living. The sound of his own breathing, deafening in his ears.

He slammed a fist on his friend's chest, once, twice, thrice, hoping and praying and knowing it was utterly futile, because everyone else was dead and being Yevon's favored had not saved the temple in Djose from Sin's devastation, had not preserved the lives of anyone who had fought so hard against that ultimate evil which no matter what the Summoners did never, ever went away long enough for Auron to forget the taste of fear in his mouth or the feel of his best friend's life leaking out between his fingers, oh Yevon, please holy Yevon…

The wind sped up.

Kinoc, gasping and coughing, took in a deep, shuddering breath.

So did Auron.


	19. Bleach: Orihime, Aizen

**Prompt**: insanity, compassion, prompted by satora-chan

**Title**: I'll See You Again Tomorrow, Orihime-san

Every day for the past five days—that is, every day following the first one—Aizen had visited her for tea. Every day for an hour, Inoue waited for the mocking glint in his eye that she had come to think was an inherent part of the man, especially so under the circumstances. Who couldn't see how funny it was for an aspiring warlord to sit down once a day with his prisoner and set out an English-style afternoon spread? (Though in truth Inoue wasn't sure if it was afternoon or not; in Hueco Mundo, it was hard to tell.)

Well, Kurosaki-san, maybe, wouldn't laugh. And Ishida-san. And… well, maybe most of her friends didn't quite have her sense of humor, but she did like the crumpets. They were especially good with strawberries. And that yellow stuff, what was it called again?

Aizen's eyebrow had quirked when he first saw Inoue spreading the yellow over her strawberries, but his voice was strangely gentle as he said, "Most people don't mix fruit and mustard, Orihime-san."

Inoue paused halfway through her first mouthful of strawberry. "Oh, is that what this is?" Only the strawberry garbled it, so she swallowed first and repeated herself, adding, "It's really good. Vinegary. Good contrast."

Then, because she was polite, she offered some to her host. Er, captor. He was feeding her, at least.

Aizen's eyebrow raised even further, but to Inoue's surprise (no one ever liked the flavor mixtures she did), he accept a mustard-dipped strawberry and took a bite. The face he made at the taste was ruthful, but the mocking element still wasn't there. "It's… interesting, Orihime-san, but I think I will stick with the tried-and-true combinations. I'm afraid to say I don't quite have your adventurous streak."

It was on the tip of Inoue's tongue to say something like, "I don't know, trying to become God sounds pretty adventurous to me," but she knew that was Kurosaki-san's influence on her, not something she actually wanted to say. So she didn't, and passed Aizen the sugar when he asked.

She actually didn't want to say much. There wasn't really a lot that was safe to talk about. So she asked him about the food, and she occasionally made some comment about Soul Society before remembering herself, but Aizen never seemed to get angry regardless of what came out of her mouth.

It was because of this that when he rose to leave, on that sixth day during her captivity in Hueco Mundo, that Inoue finally got up the courage to ask, "Why do you come here so often, Aizen-san? You aren't going to persuade me to join you like this," _even if you do have really good mustard_, her mind supplied unhelpfully, though of course she didn't say so out loud.

Aizen again smiled at her. Really smiled at her, no trace of amusement at all. It was then that the lack went past worrying Inoue. It was then that she began to feel fear. "I do not believe any of my current subordinates would enjoy sitting down with me for afternoon tea." His expression turned distant. "I missed the custom, after leaving Soul Society. Hinamori-kun made the best-" It was then that he cut himself off, and his face smoothed itself into more polite, neutral lines. "But I have business to attend to, so I'm afraid I must excuse myself."

At the door he paused, as he always did, and turned back to her. "I'll see you again tomorrow, Orihime-san."

She didn't reply. She had enough trouble staying still as it was. It wasn't until Aizen left that Inoue let herself press her hand to her mouth, trying to breathe. Trying to suppress the upsurge of disturbingly mixed feelings from overwhelming her.

She had not known Momo-san. But she had heard what Aizen had done to his lieutenant, and there had been no trace of grief, of regret, in his eyes as he spoke of her. One would never have known from looking at him that Aizen was anything more than a loving father figure to Momo-san who was beginning to miss her company, instead of her attempted killer.

There was only conclusion Inoue could draw in the end: There was something wrong with him. With Aizen. Something that went beyond the megalomania, the ambitions, the ruthlessness. Something was terribly, terribly off in the former Shinigami's head, and for the first time in her life, Inoue wished her first instinct was to feel anger, instead of compassion.

There was horror, of course. She was human, how could there be otherwise? The man had tried to murder someone who loved him, and he obviously hadn't thought twice about it since. But underneath all that, that proper feeling, was something else. Something Inoue knew she shouldn't be feeling at all.

Inoue closed her eyes, and did her best to continue breathing. The last thing she had wanted was to come to pity her enemy.


	20. Naruto: Kisame & Itachi once again

**Prompt**: conversation, eclipse, prompted by know-your-story

**Title**: The Bleeding Time

One day, the sky went dark, and the only light illuminating Itachi's face made it look like he'd washed that morning in a basin of blood. It resembled how Kisame imagined the end of the world would be.

If so, however, he had already experienced the apocalypse once in his lifetime. "I haven't been through a solar eclipse since I left my home village."

Itachi blinked at him, his pupils slightly larger than usual to compensate for the strange sort of darkness. "I never have." Then he went back to his lunch, reading the newspaper he'd bought from a vendor earlier in the day with a nonchalance that should have been feigned.

Kisame glanced around. Pretty much everyone had dropped what they were doing to stare at the sky. Somewhere, a kid was sobbing, asking his mother why the sun had gone out.

"I'd thought you'd be more interested, Itachi-san."

Itachi took a sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving the business section. If Kisame hadn't been watching his partner so closely, he never would have noticed the way the Uchiha's mouth pinched at the corners, or the pained crease between his eyes. "It isn't anything I haven't seen one-hundred times before."


	21. Final Fantasy 12: Gabranth, Larsa

**Prompt**: birds, leaves, prompted by midnightdiddle

**Title**: Landis Had Been Beautiful In Autumn

"Look, Judge Gabranth! Look!"

It was somewhat dutifully that Noah did as the four-year-old prince asked, and looked. What he saw was enough to make his eyebrows shoot up. "A ruby-throated hummingbird this late in the season? Well spotted, Lord Larsa. Almost all of them have migrated south by now."

Larsa blinked up at his bodyguard, his eyes wide and—Noah almost didn't dare think it—slightly impressed. "I did not know you were knowledgeable of birds, Judge Gabranth."

"I am not," Noah demurred, though he was unable to stop himself from feeling slightly pleased that he had remembered that bit of trivia. "My father was an enthusiast, and I was unable to escape his musings at the dinner table as a youth. It was inevitable that I absorbed some of what he knew."

Larsa nodded in understanding, though his gaze shifted back to the hummingbird flitting among the dying flowers of the fading red columbines, his still-chubby face (though Noah knew he would grow out of it, as all Solidors did) rather more enraptured than Noah had seen it when faced with his textbooks earlier that morning. "Was Landis much like Archades in autumn?"

The question made something within Noah pang, as reminiscing about his father had not. He took his time with answering, letting his gaze linger rather longer than needed on the hummingbird before saying, awkwardly, "Nay, very little like. I find it likely that Landis has already had its first snowfall, at least at the higher elevations." He tried to smile. "I daresay that the hummingbirds there did not extend their stay as this fellow did. Too cold by half, and no flowers left in bloom." Noah stretched his memory a little further, then elaborated, "Most Landis animals either flee to warmer climes or go into hibernation around now. It's practically the only time of year you can hear the wind uninterrupted."

Larsa frowned, his lips pursed. He looked unhappy, his strange Solidor empathy written clearly on his face. "It sounds very lonely."

"It was quiet, yes," Noah agreed. It was only then that he felt his expression, his smile, turn genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners for what felt like the first time in months. "Quiet, but… I always thought Landis was beautiful in autumn."


End file.
